CHAPTER THREE - 'Fall From Grace'
The tribunal went by in an almost dizzying pace, or at least it seemed for Legolas. When he was speaking in front of his own people, recounting the events leading to the incident, he was unaware of how pale and deathlike his face was, or of how lifeless his voice had sounded as he spoke. He was only conscious of his Father seated on his throne, quiet all throughout the trial, and Reeneal, with her hurt and angry eyes forever lashing at him, and Lehramie.
Lehramie remained stony as he listened to every word that was spoken, every accusation directed at him. He seemed not to react to any of the taunts thrown at him by Gleofur's family, not even the words of sympathy and exclamations of disbelief from the rest. He was still as a statue, and this made it all the more hard for Legolas to go on.
Yet one way or another he was able to do it. When it was over and it was Lehramie's turn to be quizzed by the elders, Legolas watched as Lehramie was badgered with a barrage of questions to which he gave no reply but cold silence.
When Legolas could no longer take any more of Lehramie's noncompliance, he spoke up loudly, indignant. "For pity's sake, Lehramie, speak! Defend yourself!"
Lehramie only looked at Legolas and for a moment the Prince thought he saw despair on his friend's face, but it was quickly replaced by that cold look, and Legolas knew he had no intention of doing so.
"The Prince is speaking with you," one of the elders said.
"I have nothing more to say," Lehramie replied, and the questioning ended there.
Angry, Legolas went straight outside, knowing the elders would pronounce their verdict soon. He felt sick to his stomach and there was nothing he wanted more than to leave and forget everything that had happened.
But he had to return to the tribunal, if only to hear what would become of his friend. In his heart lurked some small hope that the elders would look past the incident and everything would return to the way they were. But something else at the back of his mind knew that was not bound to happen.
And he was right. At the back of the room Legolas stood as Thranduil pronounced the verdict. All he could see was the back of Lehramie's head, proudly held high, as though openly defying the elders but at the same time, showing he accepts whatever judgment was meted.
The King spoke in so low a voice that Legolas had to crane his head to perfectly hear his words, and he regretted the action. For the words that were spoken were the exact same words he had dreaded, and prayed not to hear.
"Slaying your own kind, spilling the blood of your own people - that is a crime that shall not go unpunished, and under other circumstances the punishment that would befit the crime is death. However, you have been a son to me, in more ways than one." He swallowed, finding it hard to go on speaking.
"And so it is with greatest sorrow and pain that I pronounce you, Lehramie, son of Gerian, forever banished from Greenwood. You are never to set foot on this land, or on any elven soil. To do so would mean defiance of our verdict, and shall mete swift and instant death. You shall be escorted out of Greenwood on the morning after the morrow."
Legolas did not wait to hear more. He turned on his heel and quickly strode out into the courtyard, past the guards and into the stables, where he knew he would be alone, even for a while.
Feniel found him standing all alone, gazing at the beasts in the stalls without really seeing them.
"How are you faring, cousin?" Feniel asked, laying a hand on the prince's shoulders.
"Reeneal despises me," he whispered.
"It will pass," Feniel said reassuringly.
"Somehow I highly doubt that," he replied dryly. Then his face became grave, and Feniel noticed it.
"I know how hard it is to lose someone dear to you."
Legolas shrugged. "I guess I outgrew him."
"You did what was right, Legolas."
"Did I?" Legolas turned away, only to see his Father standing not a few feet away, a woeful expression on his face. It seemed the king had aged a thousand years for the past couple of days.
"It's a great loss, what we have both just suffered, Legolas," Thranduil said. "You a brother, I, a son. More than a warrior and a healer, he was family. I could not bear to bring death upon him. I'd rather see him gone from here than dead."
Legolas didn't say anything. He just walked towards his father and let himself be engulfed by the comfort his embrace brought, seeking solace, albeit momentarily.
Fuming mad, Feniel left the King and Legolas alone and went straight to Lehramie's chambers where he found the healer's son in deep thought. Lehramie barely acknowledged his entrance, and this infuriated him even more.
"I ought to throttle you," he breathed heatedly, "for the misery you have put the royal family under."
Lehramie spoke without looking at him. "I don't see you miserable."
"Because unlike them I see right through you."
"I am getting weary of this, Feniel. What more do you want of me? I shall be leaving soon."
Feniel seemed pleased and did not make any effort to hide it. "Indeed you shall."
"I am more than ready," Lehramie stated flatly.
"I admire your courage for accepting the inevitable. My cousin, sister and the King thought very highly of you, Lehramie. My household treated you like you were one of us. Did you really think you would get away with it? Believe me, if it was within my power, you shall be out of Greenwood this very night."
To his chagrin, Lehramie smiled. "Why are you smiling? Did I say something funny?"
"You sound like a child whose toy has been taken away from him and has just got it back. You lived with so much insecurity, did you not, Feniel? I understand. A structure is only as strong as its foundation, and yours is as defective." He smiled again. "You're right, Feniel. It is not – and will never be - within your power."
Feniel gritted his teeth. "You dare insult me, commoner?"
Lehramie ignored the term the other elf called him. "You could no longer touch me, so I say these things. You may be royalty, but I find nothing noble in you, Lord Feniel."
A battle seemed to rage within Feniel, who visibly wrestled with his wrath. "It's a good thing we will be rid of your presence soon enough! Legolas would do better without you around."
Lehramie appraised Feniel, and the other elf suddenly seemed to realize that whatever taunt he threw at the commoner did not have its desired effect. He seemed impervious to insults, and this angered him even more.
Serene was the only word that could describe Lehramie's face as he regarded Feniel with those azure eyes.
"I see it now," he said softly. "Underneath that childish bluster, you are just a child. Bullies like you are not born; they are made. Just like nobility. It is acted out, not spoken." He straightened. "Give me this few moments alone in my chamber, if you would give me that much."
Feniel could no longer think of anything else to say, dumbstruck by Lehramie's words. He walked towards the door, but he could not simply let this go. Throwing another sneer at Lehramie, he said, "Perhaps, when you get out of these woods you would meet your grandfather. You would have a lot of catching up to do."
But Lehramie had turned away, not willing to give Feniel the satisfaction of seeing him cringe. "You have caused enough misery already, Lehramie. I hope it all ends with you leaving." Then he left.
The whole night was spent with Legolas lying on his bed, peaceful sleep eluding him. The next morning he went out into the woods, opting not to meet his instructors. He spent the entire morning just walking underneath the trees, hoping time would rewind itself and he would find he was back on that fateful day, when Lehramie was with him and all those things never happened.
But when he wandered home later in the afternoon he felt even more dejected. His mind seemed to close off to everything else, and the other elves he met and passed along the way had gone unnoticed.
When he looked around him, he realized he was outside the door of Lehramie's chambers. The two guards standing outside the door acknowledged their prince with small bows. Shaken back to his senses, Legolas turned to retrace his steps back to the palace but stopped short when the door to the chambers opened and Reeneal stepped out.
She looked ashen, her eyes rimmed in red. Legolas silently berated himself, knowing he was very much to blame for her unhappiness. He stood there, gazing at her, who looked at him with such vulnerability and gloom. He longed to comfort her, but how could he do so when he himself badly needed consolation, and could not find it anywhere?
Reeneal walked up before him and wordlessly gazed upon her cousin's face. Then she bowed her head. "My Prince," she said and began to turn away.
"Reeneal, do not do this. I beg you. I do not think I could endure it."
"Endure what, my Prince?" Reeneal asked.
"I am losing my brother and dearest friend. Let me not lose you as well," he pleaded.
Reeneal's eyes searched his, and gave a melancholy smile. "You only lose that which you let go. Unlike you, cousin, I have never let go of Lehramie, and I shall never do so. Hence I shall never lose him. He shall be in my heart, for always. I know the man that he was, the man that he is, and the man that he could be, if not for your cruelty." Excusing herself, she walked away without as much as another backward glance.
Before he realized it, Legolas found himself inside Lehramie's chamber and was suddenly struck by how bare it looked, a fact that had escaped him the first time he entered it days ago.
Perhaps he did not really pay much attention then but now that Lehramie's fate now glared at him ruthlessly, Legolas finally realized the stark and ominous coldness of the place.
Lehramie was fiddling with an arrow, his face barely registering surprise at seeing the Prince. Neither did he bother to stand up, as was customary for elves whenever a member of the royal family enters the room. He remained seated and showed no intent of greeting Legolas.
His eyes were drawn to the small pouch in the corner, knowing it contained some of Lehramie's possessions, which he now remembered was very few.
"I see you are all set to go." The words came out unchecked, and he instantly regretted saying them.
When he turned to see how Lehramie reacted to this, he found his friend still sharpening the dart, apparently with no intention of speaking.
"Talk to me, Lehramie," he said beseechingly, getting the vague sense of needing reassurance from Lehramie himself.
Just when he thought Lehramie would ignore him altogether, he spoke.
"What do you need to hear?"
Feeling a bit hopeful, Legolas sat down opposite Lehramie. "Tell me I was wrong, that you are innocent."
"Then what?"
Legolas could not surmise exactly what Lehramie was thinking as he asked the question, but he paused, then spoke carefully but with conviction. "And I will defy them. I will go before my Father, before the elders, before our people. I will do everything in my power to have you vindicated. All I need," he leaned forward, "is reassurance that your hands are clean."
Lehramie seemed to consider this for a moment, not saying anything. He laid the arrow down on the table, and spread his palms before him.
"Look at my hands," he said quietly. "They speak nothing. Walk through the woods...you will hear nothing. Nothing, Legolas. No assurances, no proof. Only words. My words. But I will not defend myself, not before the elders, not before you." He stood up and paced to the far end of the room without taking his eyes off the prince. "You made up your mind about me the moment you saw me draw on the bowstring. I have stated my case, and now forgive me but I have to rest. I have a long journey ahead of me on the morrow."
Crushed, Legolas got up from where he sat. "You are still my brother," he avowed.
"Watch your tongue, your Highness. You know not of what you speak."
"You will always be my brother," Legolas asserted, pretending not to hear Lehramie's words.
When Lehramie met his gaze Legolas was struck by the coldness in those steely blue eyes. "We were never brothers, my Prince. You are royalty; I am but a commoner, and a murderer, to boot." Then he turned his back on Legolas, ending the conversation.
The Prince felt it was the end of something bigger. And despair once more took hold of him.
Gloom, it seemed, laid siege on the whole of Greenwood the next morning. The palace halls were unusually silent, and tension seemed to fill the very air. Reeneal had not come out of her rooms since the day before, and the Prince was no fun, either. He had not spoken a word to anyone, not even to the King.
When the hour came for Lehramie and his escorts to depart, Thranduil was not surprised to finally see Legolas joining the party. Lehramie, on the other hand, did not react upon seeing the prince. All his attention was directed to the King.
He bowed before Thranduil, plainly dismissing the presence of the elders. "My King," he whispered reverently.
"You have my blessing, Lehramie." The King found it an enormous struggle to speak. "May the Valar guide you always."
Lehramie looked up at the King. "If I may have one last wish, my King, would you grant it?"
Without any second thought Thranduil nodded. "Certainly. What is it?"
"From the palace gates until we venture out into the woods, I do not want any royalty to send me off."
Gasps erupted among the elves gathered around them in the courtyard, but Lehramie did not pay them any heed. Thranduil was clearly taken aback by the request, and when he glanced at Legolas and saw the pained look on his son's face, it was almost his undoing.
But he had given his word. He spoke to the Prince with his eyes, willing him to understand. When Legolas released his grip on the reins of his horse, Thranduil felt an awful sense of relief.
From the courtyard everyone watched the progress of the convoy out of the palace. Legolas, handing over his horse to a stable boy, walked beside the procession, stopping only when they reached the gates.
He looked up with grief at Lehramie. This time, when Lehramie looked at Legolas, gone was the stone statue. Sadness was revealed in the blue depths of his eyes as he beheld the prince. He reached into his pouch and pulled out something wrapped in cloth.
He handed the wrapped object down to Legolas, who gingerly accepted it, holding it as though it was made of breakable glass. Wondering what it was, he glanced up at Lehramie.
"Fare thee well, my Prince," Lehramie whispered. Without waiting for Legolas to reply he gave a slight kick on the horse's flanks and spurred it forward.
Legolas remained standing there, rooted to the spot even after the last of the convoy disappeared from view. Remembering he still held the cloth- wrapped object in his hand, he removed the cloth and lifted its content.
Lehramie's knife. The one that looked exactly like his. When they were younger, Thranduil had each given him and Lehramie identical long knives with a white handle.
The sight of Lehramie's knife in his hand brought a sense of finality to Legolas, and shamelessly, heedless of everyone around him, he let the tears flow.
Many thanks to Haldir's Heart and Soul, Keeper of your Heart and clumseysweetpea for the reviews! I am also having fun with this fic, although I have to admit I am still really green around the edges...haha. Thanks again!